Déjà Voom!

Let’s go back to the year 1978. A lanky 14-year-old kid slowly rolls his bicycle from the sidewalk onto a Gulf gas station lot for a closer look at the ’69 Torino Cobra shown on these pages. The location is the sleepy bedroom community of West Brookfield, Massachusetts, home to a number of Chevy and Mopar muscle cars. But this Royal Maroon Torino—plus a Calypso Coral ’70 Boss 302 Mustang and a Wimbledon White ’66 Shelby G.T. 350—are the only local Blue Oval machines worthy of catching the young bicyclist’s blossoming muscle car eye.

1/11The front clip was removed during storage and reveals clean, rust-free inner panels and frame members. The 14x7 slotted aluminum wheels and Lee G70-14 Man Handler belted bias-ply skins hide power front disc brakes and are true day-two mods, having been on the car since at least 1978.

The bike rolls to a stop, and its youthful rider asks a mechanic about the exciting fastback Torino, its metal Cobra Jet fender emblems and 428 hoodscoop badges glinting in the sun. In shock, the kid listens as the mechanic describes how the car’s owner brought it there for an engine swap. Pointing to a crusty Ford 302 Windsor small-block resting in the bed of a nearby pickup truck, the mechanic says that the Torino’s owner, in search of better fuel economy, contracted the shop to replace the 428 Cobra Jet with the weak-kneed 302.

Remember, this was 1978, and the ongoing phase-out of high-octane leaded gas—and lingering memories of the Arab oil embargo—relegated most muscle cars to mere used-car status. In fact, their high-compression engines made them less desirable than their six-cylinder and two-barrel, single-exhaust, nonmuscle counterparts. This truly was the era of $1,000 Hemi ’Cudas, LS6 Chevelles, and Boss 429s. It really happened.

In those dark days only an enlightened few recognized these future collectibles and preserved them. For others, engine swaps were a common way to keep older muscle cars on the road without going broke at the gas pump. Because it slashed 126 thirsty cubic inches, trading the Torino’s 428 for a 302 made perfect sense. The watchful bike-riding kid witnessed a similar scenario on the other end of town as a pristine Alpine White ’70 Plymouth Sport Fury GT had its factory-issue 440 Super Commando replaced with a 318 two-barrel in the name of improved fuel economy.

That bike-riding kid described above was me, Steve Magnante, author of this story and certified muscle car fanatic. I recall that the Torino languished at the Gulf station for several weeks as the 302 was gradually installed. The owner eventually retrieved the car and I never saw it again … until I took these photographs in early 2012, by which time the 428 had been returned to its rightful place between the spring towers.

New for the ’69 model year, the Torino Cobra was a specific model, not an option group tacked onto the Torino GT. Packing standard 428 power, the Cobra was Ford’s budget supercar entry, a market segment created by the Plymouth Road Runner in 1968. Best of all, the Cobra fastback’s base retail price of $3,333.70 included the big 428. By contrast, ’69 Road Runner hardtop buyers paid $3,215 for their weaker 383-powered machines. Any hope of catching the 428-motivated Torino Cobra required coughing up $462.80 for the 440 Six Barrel (390 hp) or $700.90 for the 426 Street Hemi (425 hp). Though rated the same 335 hp as Plymouth’s smaller 383, true 428 CJ output is closer to 400. Performance comparisons with the 440 Six Barrel are not out of line.

Currently owned by Bob Trudeau, whose ’69 Camaro Z/28 was also featured in MCR (“Second Owner Savior,” Apr. ’10), the maroon Torino appears just as it did when I first saw it nearly 35 years ago through 14-year-old eyes. Thanks to indoor storage, the faded paint, owner-applied flat-black taillamp trim, slotted aluminum wheels, and belted bias-ply tires are exactly as they were in 1978. Bob, a Chevy guy at heart but a fan of all muscle cars, bought the Cobra from a coworker who’d been sitting on it since the early ’80s.

At present, Bob is torn between performing a full restoration and just bolting everything back together and driving it as much as possible. Regardless of what the fates have in store, we can thank the temporary 302 engine swap for the car’s existence today. It is likely the swap rekindled its owner’s interest in the car, saving it from the junkyard.

Bizarre but Brief

The Road Runner wasn’t the only Plymouth entity under attack by Ford in 1969. As this classic Stock Car Racing magazine cover photo depicts, Ford lured NASCAR star Richard Petty away from Plymouth and put him behind the wheel of a series of Torino stock cars for the 1969 race season. Stock Car Racing called it “the most shocking change-over to hit the modern-day stock car sport.”

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The root of Petty’s switch was the fact there was no companion model to the aerodynamic Dodge Charger Daytona in Plymouth’s ’69 lineup. The Petty camp was (rightfully) concerned about the competitiveness of the Road Runner’s blunt nose and lift-inducing concave backlight on the superspeedway.

The bizarre sight of electric-blue Torinos bearing the number 43 was brief. Though Boss 429 and 427 wedge-powered Torinos and Torino Talladegas carried Petty to numerous wins in 1969, for 1970 Plymouth acquiesced and released the aerodynamically enhanced Road Runner Superbird—just in time to face a series of handicaps from NASCAR intended to put more “stock” in its stock cars and push “race engines” off the track. Petty’s “defection” was undoubtedly responsible for the sale of many Torinos, maybe even our feature car.